


Comprehension

by BumblingSilver



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2D Needs a Hug, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Maybe a bit ooc oopsie, One Shot, Phase Two (Gorillaz)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27018586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BumblingSilver/pseuds/BumblingSilver
Summary: Noodle and 2D have a day off. Murdoc throws a wrench in their plans to have a stress-free game day. 2D doesn't really understand what's going on, but what else is new?
Relationships: Noodle & Stuart "2D" Pot
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Comprehension

The air in Kong Studios was stuffy, as it was most days. The many halls of the building were dimly lit, the wiring needing repairs desperately. Nobody was willing to drive up to fix them. And if a mechanic bothered driving the distance, the low, discontented rumble of the undead turned them back rather quickly.  
Still, in spite of the destitute atmosphere, Stuart Pot refused to let himself be bothered. He was looking up, for once. It was rare for the band to have a day off, after all; Murdoc worked his bandmates to the bone. He had to make this one free day count, if only for Noodle’s sake.  
The 16 teen year old in question was currently nestled in a red, well-loved blanket at his side, watching the T.V. screen with rapt attention as Stuart helped her through a stage of Ōkami. She was tense, statuesque as she examined the display. Every once in a while, she’d exclaim something in Japanese that Stuart didn’t understand. He’d hum in assent. They’d been like this all day, playing video games together and generally goofing around.  
As Stuart finally cleared the boss, a cutscene started playing. The dialogue flitted across the screen, in Kanji for Noodle’s benefit. She gestured for Stuart to hand her the controller, and he obliged, grinning. Noodle offered him a thumbs up.  
“よくやった! Nice job, 2D.” Noodle’s excited voice bounced off the walls, filling the room with an otherwise absent warmth. She peered up at Stuart, beaming. He shrugged, mumbling something that vaguely sounded like “it was nothin’.”  
Noodle’s smirk suddenly turned mischievous as she turned back to the television. Her voice held a faux authority as she ordered,  
“Now that your hands are free, it will not be any trouble for you to grab two drinks from the fridge, would it?” Stuart scoffed, rolling his eyes; it was for his own benefit, his blackened eyeballs prevented anyone from seeing his pupils.  
“The things I do for you,” He grumbled, standing up from his place on their dingy couch. Noodle smiled and returned her focus to the game as Stuart made towards the distinctly cleanly kitchen. Russel made sure it was always gleaming, even if the rest of their quarters were an absolute pigsty.   
As he stumbled into the room, his eyes zeroed in on the figure at the table, guzzling a bottle of cheap brandy. Murdoc. Stuart took a sharp breath, caught off guard by the moribund bassist’s appearance. The ill-tempered man tended to stay locked in his room. If he wasn’t out on a bender or playing with the band, he was rarely seen by the outside world. However today, for some ungodly reason, he was out in the open, seemingly without purpose. Just Stu’s luck.  
His hands involuntarily clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. Whether it was to hide the fact that Noodle had painted them earlier in the day, or to be prepared to defend himself from a hit, even he wasn’t sure. Murdoc eyed him, seeming rather bored. He swayed in his chair, clearly shit-faced. Stuart wondered how much he’d had to drink before the brandy at his side. He felt his anxiety bloomed larger in his chest.  
“Er, ‘ello Mudz.” His voice wavered as he made his way over to the fridge. Murdoc grunted an unintelligible response, his already gravelly words slurred. Stuart quickly opened the refrigerator, yanking two cans of generic soda out of their plastic holders. Murdoc surveyed his movements with a detached sort of intrigue, as if Stuart were a particularly uninteresting zoo animal.  
“What’re you doin’?” Murdoc’s brow cocked as he sized the other up. Stuart closed the fridge’s door with his hip. His frown deepened as he glanced back up at the bassist.   
“Why do you care?” he mumbled, unable to raise his voice much further. Murdoc just sneered. The singer shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling the familiar rush of self-consciousness that came with being in the same room as Niccals. He tightened his grip on the cans in his hand.  
“What’s the matter, faceache? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You scared I’m gonna pounce or somethin’? Don’t worry, you’re not worth the effort.” Murdoc cackled, belching loudly into his hand. Stuart withered slightly. Indignance bubbled in his chest. He pried open his lips, searching for words to sprout in his defense. He took a small step backwards, a safer distance from the figure in front of him, before countering,  
“Nah, not scared,” the quiver in his voice contradicted that, but he pushed on anyway.  
“Just repulsed. When’s the last time you showered? You smell like a corpse, if nothin’ else.” Murdoc’s laugh died in his throat as his gaze narrowed dangerously.   
“Ah, I see. Feelin’ brave today, aren’t we, dullard?” Murdoc rose from his chair, clenching his bottle tightly. Stuart’s stomach dropped as he realized there was only one drink left, by Murdoc’s standards. The bassist could easily take a swig and then chuck it at him. He opened his mouth to apologize, to beg for Murdoc not to hurt him, anything to save himself from his own stupidity, but at that moment, Noodle came in. Her blanket was still wrapped tightly around her, almost like a cape.  
“You’ve been in here a while. Did you zone out trying to choose a drink again?” Noodle’s head was tilted in concern, her bangs parted slightly to reveal a single piercing green eye. Relief flooded Stuart’s senses as he shook his head, moving further from Murdoc.   
“Everything’s alrigh’, love. I got what you wanted,” he smirked, shaking the drinks in his hand lightly. Noodle beamed up at him, nabbing one of the cans and cracking it open. She took a small sip before addressing Stuart again.  
“I need some more help... this part of the game is a bit tricky.” She grabbed Stuart by the wrist, urging him back to the adjoining room. Stuart chuckled.  
“Every part is ‘a bit tricky’ for you tonight.” Noodle huffed at him, leading him out of the room. She glanced back at Murdoc, who merely gave her a wave. She returned it without breaking stride.  
The pair settled back into their original position on the beaten-down couch, Noodle leaning slightly into Stuart’s side. She picked up the controller from its spot on the coffee table, setting her drink in its place.  
Stuart expected her to hand it to him, but she merely resumed progress in the game once again, full attention on the screen. Stuart glanced down at her, brow furrowed in confusion.  
“Thought you needed help?” He watched Noodle fiddle with the buttons and analog sticks, easily navigating the map. Noodle shrugged, not tearing her eyes away from the action.  
“私は嘘をついた. I heard your and Murdoc’s conversation. He was,” she paused for a beat, thinking of her words carefully.  
“It sounded like he was going to become aggressive. You challenged him.” She turned to him, demeanor like that of a mother scolding her child.  
“That’s just as unlike you as it is unwise of you. ‘You should refrain from provoking an inebriated Murdoc.’ Like Russel said.” She reiterated it plainly, as if they were discussing particularly nasty weather. Had the singer and Murdoc really repeated this cycle enough for Noodle to be used to it?   
Stuart stared blankly at the T.V. in front of them, eyes glazed over. He tried to think of something to say, something to ease the subtle tension in Noodle’s shoulders or else reassure her in some fashion. But thinking was never his strong suit, and an uncomfortable silence filled the room instead.  
She was right, after all. Murdoc had the telltale glint in his eyes that always preluded the shattering of a bottle, or the dull thump of a body hitting the ground, or else a stifled cry for help. It was stupid of him to engage the alcoholic in the first place. It didn’t matter what set him off. It could be the most inconsequential matter on Earth, but once Murdoc’s fuse was lit, he always ended up exploding. The fact that it always ended with Stuart in the blast zone, well, it didn’t exactly deter Murdoc from letting loose.  
He looked back at Noodle. Her position had changed slightly, eyes glued to her lap. He could feel the despondency radiating off of her. He bit the inside of his cheek, pensive.  
“Noods, you know he’d never do that to you, right? No matter how angry he gets, he wouldn’t hurt you.” There were few things that he knew about Murdoc with absolute certainty, but that was one of them. The bassist never laid a finger on Noodle; it’s the one thing that Stuart could give him credit for. No matter what happened to Stuart himself, no matter how many tussles Russ and Murdoc got into, Noodle was safe.  
But that didn’t seem to ease her mind. If anything, to Stuart’s surprise, Noodle’s mood worsened. Her shoulders were no longer tensed, but slumped uncharacteristically low. Her mouth twisted into something like a grimace.  
“I’m not worried about me, D. I’m worried about you.” Stuart, as in the case with most situations, was at a loss for words. The sentiment genuinely shocked the singer. It felt good to be cared for, but concerned for? That one didn’t make sense. He shook his head slightly.  
“Why’re you worried about me, love?”  
“Murdoc- “  
“Murdoc has been doing this kind of stuff for what,” Stuart counted the tips of his fingers quietly, “five years now? It’s nothing new. ‘M used to it, honest.” He was used to it. With a start, he realized it was his normal, at least inside the walls of Kong Studios. Still, the fact did little to disturb him. That’s just how things were.  
“2D..” was all the girl beside him uttered. She met his gaze once again. Nothing alarmed Stuart more in that moment than that look. Than her eyes boring into his, swimming with emotion he’d never seen from her.  
A small tear ran down Noodle’s cheek. Followed by another. And another. Until her nose was rosy and her eyes were puffy, and she was crying into Stuart’s shoulder and hugging him tight. Stuart merely hugged her back, confused and, if he was being honest, a little scared.  
“Noodle...?”  
Nothing but quiet snuffles in response. He decided speaking wasn’t the smartest thing to do in this situation. It seemed he’d just made things worse whenever he did open his mouth.   
So instead, he just stayed there, rubbing circles in Noodle’s back until her sniffling ceased. He didn’t understand. But he’d stay here, with Noodle in his arms, as long as she needed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic!! I had a lot of fun with it :). Constructive criticism is always welcome <3


End file.
